Probability
by WalkingInMemphis
Summary: Red EyexLOST crossover. Three years after Red Eye, Lisa meets Jackson again on the doomed Oceanic Flight 815. Now she must live as a castaway with 48 others at the side of her greatest enemy. JxL
1. Chapter 1

Probability

A/N-For all those Red Eye fans who don't really follow Lost, you can still understand this story. This fic is mainly Red Eye with interactions from Lost. You may not get some of the random stuff I throw in (ex. the manual man you'll read about in this chapter) and some of the island plot, but mostly it's going to be Lisa & Jack stuck on a deserted island and trying to sort out their relationship. Thanks for reading and please review!

Chapter One

"Wow… I guess you're kind of famous now."

Lisa, wrapped in an old blanket, looked up from the window of her father's house and smiled at Cynthia, accepting one of the coffee mugs in her hands. Blowing on the steaming cup, she turned her gaze back to the hordes of reporters crowded on the front lawn.

"They'll just stay until the next big story comes along. Until then, I'm on house arrest."

Cynthia's eyebrows shot up. "You're not giving them any interviews? They'll give you, like, a million dollars for one! You could even write a book-"

"Cynthia" Lisa interrupted softly. "I don't want to do any of that. I just want it to be over and done with. I want to go back to normal." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that it was impossible. Normalcy was something that could never be attained after the few hours she had just spent. Deep down inside, Lisa wondered if she really did want to go back to normal. She didn't dare ponder the subject-she had no idea what the result would be.

Cynthia looked slightly concerned at her friend's distant expression. "What was it like?" she ventured softly. "You know, the plane...your house…."

Lisa shook her head. "It was……." Terrifying. Traumatizing. _Exhilarating_.

"…..different. It was different."

Her friend patted her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "Hey, don't worry," she started, in an attempt to be lighthearted. "If the bastard's not dead from all the holes you put in him, he's probably rotting in a maximum security cell. You'll never see him again."

_You'll never see him again_. Lisa wondered if she should find that statement comforting or depressing. In the short burst of time that her life had been intertwined with Jackson Rippner's, she had discovered a part of herself she never knew she had. Jackson had revealed another Lisa; a bold, aggressive, slightly violent woman who was nothing like the paranoid hotel manager whose body she had lived in for the past four years.

Trying to fit into that body again was like trying on a dress that was only half a size off- familiar, but slightly uncomfortable.

Far down, below the layers of rationality that had commanded her life, Lisa had what Jackson would call a "Female Driven Emotion-Based Logic" feeling, or simply a gut instinct. She would see Jackson again. Small obstacles like sustaining mortal injuries or being arrested wouldn't stand in his way if he was determined to find her. His words from a few hours ago haunted her.

"_You know, when this is over I might have to steal you."_

Jackson would come back. Of this Lisa was certain, though she didn't want to know if this idea created hope or dread.

But when the time came, she would be prepared.

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THREE YEARS LATER

Maliciously cursing airports for the millionth time in her head, Lisa groaned and ran her hands through her already-frazzled hair in frustrations. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't prepared for this."

The annoyingly cheery woman working the flight counter gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry too, dear," she chirped in a blithe Australian accent that made Lisa want to strangle her. "But there's no other flights to Miami until tomorrow. I would suggest getting a hotel room for the night before they're all filled up."

Lisa sighed. "Could you give me a layover to somewhere else_ near_ Miami?"

The woman tapped a few keys on her computer and frowned. "The only flights I can get you to the United States that aren't filled are Flight 456 to New Mexico and Flight 815 to Los Angeles."

Lisa made a split-second decision. The Los Angeles airport was larger, and thus probably had more flights to Miami. She had no idea what kind of consequences her decision would bring in the near future.

"I'll take a ticket for Flight 815."

The annoying airport lady beamed and handed her a ticket. Lisa accepted the blue, shiny envelope and wearily handed her a credit card. Unfortunately, it looked as if her night was far from over, but at the moment she couldn't care less. Right now she just wanted to leave this country and all the memories it bestowed upon her in her short visit there as soon as possible.

Walking briskly to her terminal, Lisa saw with tired delight that she had come just at the right moment: it looked as if the flight had just begun to board. She wouldn't have to sit in the uncomfortable airport chairs and worry herself into a mess about the upcoming flight.

This wasn't her first flight since Jackson. It wasn't even her second, or third. After the "Keefe Incident", as everyone but herself called it, Lisa had been determined to continue with her job as if nothing had happened, in an effort to force herself to go back to who she was before Jackson. She made an effort to travel, to fly again for work purposes, even against her family and friends' wary warnings. It was as if she was trying to dilute the memory of the Red Eye flight with other nameless flights afterward, to give it less meaning.

She still, however, was petrified of flying. And lucky for her, her ticket was directly in the back row. Right where the wheels come up underneath your feet.

Since they seemed to be boarding back to front, Lisa skillfully maneuvered herself through the faceless mass of people to slide through the ticket check, passport and ticket at hand.

Walking down the narrow blue carpetway of the plane, Lisa nearly tripped over a glossy flight safety manual. She picked it up from the ground and turned to the bald man sitting directly to the left of it, one of the few people on the plane before her.

"Excuse me, is this yours?"

The man looked up and gazed at her outstretched hand with a mixture of longing, anger and helplessness. "Yes, that's mine. Thank you."

Smiling warily, Lisa walked quickly past him and down the stretching aisle to one of the last rows. Checking her ticket again, she slid past a tough-looking Hispanic woman and into the third seat in the middle column.

As the plane slowly filled with people around her, Lisa leaned back in her seat and tried to relax. She dug out some aspirin from her purse along with a bottle of water, and quickly swallowed three of them. The medicine would help her pounding headache, and had the useful side affect of making her extremely drowsy. She really didn't like being at her most alert at moments like these.

As the plane began to move, breaking away from the airport, Lisa simply wished to drift away for the next eight hours and closed her eyes tightly. Cerulean blue eyes stared at her behind her closed eyelids, and Lisa let a small sigh escape her lips before hazy blackness welcomed her.

She was jolted out of her sleep by a rough bout of turbulence, causing her to blink and sit up, disoriented. She really needed to start cutting back on her aspirin doses. As the plane's bouncing lessened, she suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom, and shuffling out of her row, she started carefully down the aisle. The bathroom in front of her section was locked, and Lisa had to continue down the swaying carpetway, clutching the handrests of seats occasionally.

In her slightly disoriented journey, Lisa failed to notice that she had attracted the attention of a familiar pair of inquisitive blue eyes, following her to the bathroom.

Finally, at the midsection of the plane Lisa found an unlocked stall and stumbled in, relieving herself and splashing water on her sleepy face. As she became more alert, she made a face at herself in the mirror at the state of her unruly hair and clumped mascara.

"You're a mess, Lisa." she said tiredly to her reflection, knowing that she meant more than her momentary appearance.

Combing her hair halfheartedly with her fingers and wiping her eyes, she unlocked the tiny bathroom door and swung it open.

And found herself facing a pair of cerulean blue eyes in a moment of deja-vu that forced her to take an involuntary step back.

The man attached to the eyes took a step forward. As many times as Lisa had imagined this moment, she always created Jackson wearing his trademark evil smirk when he finally tracked her down. But now, Jackson's face was spread in a look of complete astonishment that she'd never seen on him before.

"Leese?" he blurted out, reaching a hand toward her that she automatically flinched away from.

At that moment, the plane seemed to leap from the sky, giving a gigantic jolt that sent Lisa flying into the arms of Jackson Rippner and into a situation that she was definitely not prepared for.

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Thank you so much for reading! Please review-constructive critisism is greatly appreciated! If you're confused about the Lost crossover, please see the author's note at the top.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Disclaimer-Heh, sorry I forgot this in the first chapter. Man, I don't know what I would do if I owned Lost and Red Eye. However, to keep the PG13 rating, I'll refrain from making a few suggestions. I don't own either. Sadly.

A/N-Another sorta-disclaimer. I'm not going to have Lisa and Jackson involved in every aspect of the Lost plot. Otherwise, this story would just be the Lost script with a few comments by Jackson and Lisa thrown in, which would be equally boring to read and write. Thus, while Lisa and Jack will interact with the Golden Group, they'll mostly keep in the background, dealing with their own Island Issues. I do, however, solemnly swear that Jackson and Sawyer will try to kill each other at least once. I'll take bets on who you think would win.

**Chapter Two-**

As the floor of the plane continued to buck, throwing unlucky passengers into the ceiling, Lisa felt Jackson's arms close around her in a viselike grip as they smashed into the opposite bathroom wall. Lisa could see Jack's jaw clench in pain as his head snapped back against the metal edging of the door.

With another jolt, both fell to the floor, and Lisa found her face only inches from the one that had invaded her dreams and nightmare's alike for the past three years.

For a few seconds, neither moved, just lay there taking in the shock. Then Jackson scrambled to his feet, pulling Lisa up with him none too gently.

Lisa tore her arm out of his grip and took a step back, clutching onto the open bathroom door for balance as the floor quickly began to tilt downward.

"What the hell did you do, Jack?" she yelled over the whining of the engines and the screaming of passengers.

Jackson ignored her, swiveling to look at a nearby window displaying layers of clouds whizzing past. He swore violently and turned back to grab her arm once again and drag her back towards the midsection of the plane.

Lisa struggled, screaming for help from the other passengers no more than two feet from her. To her dismay, everyone was either screaming themselves or had their eyes tightly shut, praying or simply holding on to the best of their ability. No one could hear her cries for help.

As Jackson continued to pull her down the aisle, she caught the eye of the bald man she had spoken to earlier. He looked positively terrified, but unlike most others he was conscious and alert.

"Sir!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard. "Help me! Please!"

The bald man stared at Jackson in horror and gripped his handrests until his knuckles were white, but he didn't rise from his seat.

In one of her last moments of consciousness, the man shoot her a look of anguished apology, mixed with the helplessness she had seen earlier.

Then Jackson stopped at an empty row and turned to her, taking her shoulders in his hands and slamming his forehead down on hers.

Lisa's world turned a peaceful black.

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The bright light was killing her.

Lisa groaned and covered her eyes with her palm. She always kept the drapes in her apartment fully closed, for this reason among others. Always a light sleeper, she could be wakened at dawn by the rising sunshine. As she shifted to bury her face into her pillow, her eyes shot open as she realized her face was now covered in sand.

As sound slowly returned to her, Lisa could tell that she most definitely was not in her bedroom.

The first thing she heard was the rhythmic thumping of waves hitting the shore, not unlike something programmed in fancy musical alarm clocks.

Unfortunately, the pleasant sound of the tide was overwhelmed by heart-rendering screams and sobbing.

Planting her hands at her sides, Lisa pushed herself up and slowly climbed to her feet, still squinting. Her ascent was followed by a rush of nausea and dizziness, and Lisa reached to her side for her aspirin in her purse, but realized it was gone.

The second thing she noted was that her hair was wet. Funny, because all of her clothes were sandy, but dry. She reached her hand back and touched her head, shocked when her fingers came back coated in red.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, Lisa forgot about her newly attained head wound and stood in stupefaction at the grisly scene in front of her.

The entire midsection of the plane, wings still shakily attached lay like a giant metal sausage on the beach. Strewn around it were various pieces of the plane, including one of the jets, the blades still spinning dangerously.

The front and back of the plane were nowhere to be found.

Various battered and bloodied people ran through the wreckage, screaming. Some screamed names with heartbreaking desperation, while others just screamed in pain or shock. A young blonde woman stood on a flat piece of metal, shrieking simply because it looked like the only thing she could do.

Lisa began to stumble towards the plane, her eyes searching for a slim, dark-haired man in a suit. There was nothing.

Her pace quickened as she raced through the maze, her mind too numbed to wonder what she was doing, looking for a man who most likely wanted to kill her.

"Jackson!" she called hoarsely, pushing past masses of shell-shocked men and women, scanning their faces for a familiar pair of eyes.

In the corner of her vision, she spotted a man in a suit and whipped around, his name at the tip of her tongue. But it wasn't him. The man pulling another out from beneath the wreckage was larger than Jackson and had close-cut hair.

Running past him, Lisa sprinted towards the body of the plane. At the opening, the jagged hole where she assumed the plane had broken off from the back, Lisa could see the rows of seats, most empty. Some, however, were still filled with inert bodies, and the overwhelming smell of blood forced her to retreat several steps.

There. A few rows from the back. Lisa could see the back of Jackson's head, slumped back on the headrest.

Steeling herself and taking a deep breath of air, Lisa climbed through the hole and into the aisle of the plane.

She forced herself to keep her eyes completely forward. She didn't want to chance a glance at the other occupants of the plane.

Arriving at his row, Lisa turned and looked at Jackson, inhaling sharply. In addition to a deep gash on his forehead, Jackson's shirt was soaked with blood from a horizontal cut across his abdomen.

Lisa swung into the empty seat next to him and hesitantly pressed her fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. She found one, weak but fairly steady.

Letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, she closed her eyes and tried to clam yourself. "You can do this, Lisa." she whispered, ignoring the warning bells in her mind that were asking why she _wanted_ to do this in the first place.

Unbuckling Jackson's seatbelt, she slung his arm over her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his back, straining to lift him from the seat. Jackson gave a low moan, but didn't wake up.

Pulling with everything she had at the moment (which wasn't much), Lisa managed to get on her feet and drag Jackson out of the aisle. She let out a small prayer of thanks that Jackson was a slim guy.

Shuffling sideways, Lisa pulled him down the aisle, stopping for breaks to catch her breath. Now facing the airplane wall, she was subjected to the gruesome view of passengers who hadn't been quite as lucky as she was. Lisa dropped her gaze to the bloodied carpet and tried not to throw up.

She had absolutely no idea how she was going to climb down onto the ground without dropping Jackson. Luckily, as she was standing at the edge of the plane, she caught the glimpse of a red t-shirt as a young man raced by.

"Hey!" she called, her voice sore and cracking. The man stopped in his tracks and turned, looking at her in surprise.

"Help me with him, I can't climb down." she pleaded, breathing a sigh of relief as the man nodded and jogged over, taking Jackson from Lisa's arms as she jumped down into the sand. Together, they dragged him up away from the plane, until they were closer to the jungle at the edge of the beach.

"That's good." Lisa panted. The young man, who was probably a year or two younger than her, dropped Jackson carefully in the sand.

"Do you have a pen?" he questioned breathlessly, resting his hands on his knees and staring down at Jackson.

Lisa almost laughed. "_What_ did you say?"

"There's a doctor over there; he needs to do one of those throat pen-things to a woman who's not breathing. That's where I was going when you saw me."

Lisa fumbled in her jacket pocket for her black ballpoint pen with "Lux Atlantic" written on the side. "Here." she offered

The man reached over Jackson's body. "Thanks."

"It's nothing. Thank you so much for helping me…..um…."

"Boone. I'm Boone." the man said, smiling.

Lisa smiled tiredly as she dropped to her knees by Jackson's body. "Thanks Boone. You should probably get that pen to the doctor now."

"Right."

As Boone took off toward the plane, Lisa surveyed Jackson's wounds again.

The cut on his stomach was long but pretty shallow, though there was a surprising amount of blood there. Frowning, she pushed Jackson's suit jacket off of his shoulders and unbuttoned his collared shirt.

_If someone told me yesterday that I'd be undressing Jackson Rippner on a beach_, Lisa thought, chuckling grimly, _I'd say they were a few logs short of a roaring fire._

She grimaced as Jackson's wound came into full view. Stripping off her jacket to wipe away the blood with, Lisa could see that most off the blood came from a circle inside the cut, most likely an old bullet wound, reopened. It fact, it was in the right place for the bullet she had shot at him three years ago.

Lisa's head jerked up as one man's hoarse shouting broke through the quieting shrieking, and turned to see the suited man she confused for Jackson sprinting towards a extremely fat man and an extremely pregnant woman.

"Get up! Get her away from there!"

Lisa's gazed traveled upward and she gasped in horror as one of the wings of the plane broke away from the body and plummeted toward the ground, right where the man and women were standing.

As the wing made contact with the ground, a gigantic explosion rocked the beach and Lisa threw herself down on the sand next to Jackson, covering her head with her hands.

Wreckage flew in all directions, one large piece narrowly missing Lisa and Jackson and almost crushing a short man clothed in black, who looked surprisingly nonchalant.

As the smoke cleared from the area, Lisa lifted her head, scanning Jackson to make sure he was intact and then turning her attention back to the plane. To her relief, the pregnant woman was alright, having been shielded by the suited man who had reached them just in time.

Crawling back into a sitting position, Lisa dusted herself off and massaged her temples, wondering if this was all some kind of Advil-induced nightmare.

Sweeping her gaze back over to Jackson, who still had blood pooling on his forehead, Lisa reached for her coat and tried to dab some of the blood away.

"I swear to God, Jackson." she grumbled, "If we live through this you owe me a lifetime supply of Seabreezes."

It was at that moment that Jackson's eyes shot open.

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**Reviews are Happiness!**

Oh, and for those who don't watch Lost, I've decided to add links for the pictures of charecters from the show I introduce on my bio, since I can't post links on chapters. If you want to see Boone, just go to the "stories" part of my bio, to Probability, and there should be a Boone link. Just to get a mental picture in your head.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Someone informed me that it was illegal to post review replies in the actual chapter, so I replied to your reviews directly for the second chapter. I'm sorry if you submitted an unsigned review and I wasn't able to reply. Thank you for reviewing!

And to those who don't watch Lost: _long parts in italics equal _**flashbacks**. Every lostaway has them, which now includes Jack and Lisa. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

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Chapter Three

Lisa jumped back as if burned as Jackson's gaze fell on her. Leaving her suit jacket laying on his forehead, she scooted a little farther away from his body.

Jackson held her eyes with his for a few long moments, an undecipherable look hidden in them. Then he looked away, glancing down at that blood on his stomach.

"Where are we?" he asked hoarsely, bringing a hand up to the wound on his head and wincing as he sat up.

Lisa looked out on the beach, wondering the exact same thing herself.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "The plane crashed on a beach; well, the midsection did, at least. I don't see the ends of the plane."

Jackson surveyed his surroundings, watching a few people run through the wreckage. "How many other survivors?"

"About forty or fifty. I'm guessing most of us were thrown out of the plane before it crashed."

"And no one's come?"

Lisa shook her head. "Not yet. It's only been a couple of hours." She glued her eyes to the ground as Jackson's sharpening stare returned to her, his hand automatically reaching to his side for the knife sheath he always carried with him. It was empty.

Lisa smiled bitterly as she played with the glinting KA-BAR in her hands.

"Going to kill me, Jack?" she asked softly. "Here, in front of everyone?"

Jackson's jaw tightened at the use of the nickname. "No one would notice, and you have a lot to answer for, Leese."

Lisa tucked the knife into her waistband and stood up, towering over him. "I don't think you would."

Amusement twisted Jackson's face. "Do you really?"

Lisa openly stared him in the eye, challenging him. "I saved your life, you know."

His eyes narrowed. "You did what?"

She lowered her voice, her head descending closer to his. "You were stuck in _that_," she pointed to the smoldering fuselage, "_dying_. I pulled you out."

Lisa leaned closer to him, unable to resist giving her voice a taunting edge.

"You _owe_ me, Jack."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lisa knew they were foolish.

Jackson was on his feet in a flash, one hand wrapped around her throat, crushing her windpipe and leaning over her in a towering pillar of rage.

"I" he hissed, "do not owe you _anything_."

"_You owe us quite a lot, Rippner."_

_Jackson slowly eased into awareness, a journey accompanied by no small amount of pain. The last thing he remembered was being tended to in the ICU of some county hospital._

_Looking through a world of unfocused eyes, Jackson could only see three dark blue walls and a silver-haired man standing at the side of what he guessed was a hospital bed._

_As the picture focused, he realized the man was none other than Peter King, the head of the Tampa Corporation, and his boss. _

_King was a tall, imposing man who dressed to kill and was armed to do worse. Today, in his navy blue pinstriped suit coupled with a light blue tie, King could have been taken as a wealthy lawyer or stockbroker. It was his eyes that gave away his profession. They were a silver matching to his hair and hard as flit, speaking of a life of hardship and cruelty. He had built the Tampa Corporation himself, naming it after the city of his birth, though it's headquarters were now much further north._

_All in all, he was not a man to be messed with. The fact that he, personally, was in Jackson's room boded an ill fate for someone. Most likely him. Jackson swallowed hard against the throbbing pain in his throat and attempted to speak, his voice coming out a rasp._

"_Where am I?" _

_King clasped his hands behind his back and turned to the window. "You were taken from the Florida county hospital after being moved out of the ICU. You're in our Georgia headquarters."_

_Pulling the shades shut, King whipped around to Jackson, standing at the foot of his bed. and pinning him to the mattress with his glare._

"_Rippner, what the hell happened? I know your work, I know you could've done a job like this in your sleep. Now Keefe and his family are alive, and you look like Swiss Cheese." _

_Jackson braced himself up, trying to maintain some control over the situation. "It was the girl."_

_King snapped open a folder in his hand and skimmed over a sheet. "The hotel manager? Lisa Riesert? It says here in your report that she would be a piece of cake."_

_Jackson shook his head. "She was more than I bargained for."_

_King's eyes narrowed. "You're not telling me you got involved with a pawn, did you Rippner?"_

_Jackson went rigid "I'm a professional." he snapped._

_King smile was feral. "You better be. Start healing, because in two weeks I have a target for you. And if you mess up this one, I swear to God Rippner, we'll tear you apart"_

_Jackson tried not to look too relived. "Good. Who is it?"_

_King threw the file down on his bed, deliberately landing it where Lisa had punctured his thigh with a shoe. Jackson winced and grabbed the file, a photo of a woman entering a building falling out into his lap._

_He picked it up and studied it, frowning. "There must be some mistake. This is Lisa Riesert."_

_King nodded, smirking. "She knows too much about you, Jackson. Make it messy-we want the press to catch it." _

Jackson glared coldly as Lisa's mouth opened and closed like a beached fish, gasping for air and swinging her arms into whatever part of Jackson she could reach.

Halfway across the beach, a man with slicked-back blonde hair and a toughened face leaned against a piece of wreckage, smoking a cigarette and watching everything that transpired through slitted blue eyes.

Movement caught his eye, and he saw two struggling figures, a man and a woman. His interest peaking, he raised his hand up to block the sun from his eyes, and then realized that the man had his hand around the woman's throat.

Jumping to his feet, he stalked towards the man, his face set in a scowl, stopping only when he saw that another guy had reached them first.

Taking another position in the shade, Sawyer lit up another cigarette and simply watched.

Just as the corners of her vision started to fuzz with black, Jackson's hand flew off her throat and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and sputtering.

"Hey! What the hell is going on?"

Lisa looked up to see Boone running towards them. Jackson smirked over his shoulder at her. "Friend of yours, Leese?"

Boone reached them, pushing Jackson out from in front of her. "What do you think you were doing?" he panted angrily at him as he stood between the two.

"Nothing." Jackson said nonchalantly. "A misunderstanding. Sorry we disturbed you."

Boone turned from Jackson to help Lisa to her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern written on his face.

Lisa nodded, still coughing lightly.

"She'll be fine." Jackson cut in. "Really. She choked on something-I was just trying to help." He looked at Boone pointedly as if he was intruding. "We're together."

Boone kept his hand on Lisa's arm as he stared at Jackson warily.

"Why don't you come sit with me and my sister?" he asked Lisa, leading her down the beach. "We have water, it could probably help your _throat_."

Lisa nodded and followed him down, sparing one last look at Jackson over her shoulder before following Boone down to the more populated area of the beach.

Jackson stood, watching the two go with contempt blazing on his features before stalking after them, preparing to give Boone a lesson on both interrupting and stealing.

He had walked halfway up the beach when a glowing cigarette butt was thrown at his feet. Jackson swiveled to see a man hiding in the shadow of the plane, glaring at him.

"Hey, Armani" he called in a heavy southern drawl, menace lacing his worlds.

"I would watch my fucking back if I were you."

Jackson took a step towards him, fully prepared to fillet him like a trout when he remembered that Lisa had his knife. He instead memorized his face; dirty blonde hair, slicked-back, squinted blue eyes and a mouth that seemed eternally twisted in a smirk.

After staring at him long and hard, Jackson turned to continue before pausing.

"What's you name?" he asked, his voice crisp and cold.

The man grinned. "Sawyer."

Jackson tilted his head as if considering this useful bit of information.

"Sawyer, I'm not the only one who should be watching my back."

Feeling the Southern man's eyes burning a hole in his head behind him, Jackson strode toward the beach.

_He sat in his car, listening to the brand-new smooth jazz CD bought specifically for this occasion, and watched Lisa's apartment lights until he knew she was asleep._

_Opening the door softly, Jackson left his gun in the car. The neighbors shouldn't hear anything. The knife sheathed at his side was the only thing he needed for a job like this._

_Lisa had changed her apartment since their encounter, living in a flashier, more upscale building boasting better security. It had taken Jackson all of five minutes to bypass the system, and he was gliding through the building, completely invisible. He even took the elevator, not wanting to strain himself._

_As he stood in the metal doors Jackson tried to block out the memories of Lisa. When they first met, and Jackson got to live like the man he could've been for seven minutes and found himself wanting more. When she first fought back, with the Dr. Phil book and mirror, and Jackson realize he had underestimated her. When she stabbed him with the pen-the landmark moment he stopped seeing her as a pawn and strted seeing her as an opponent._

_There was no breaking in required for Lisa's apartment door-he had had the key since the minute she moved in. _

_Sliding through the rooms with finesse, Jackson chuckled silently at the egg skillet still soaking in the sink. It seemed that Lisa hadn't given up all her old habits._

_And then he was in her room. By her bedside, finally casting his eyes on the one woman who had managed to captivate him and enrage him at the same time._

_He closed his eyes and remembered his job. Time to be a professional. Remember Professional Jackson, who quartered anyone who managed to get in the way of his job? Drawing a shaky breath, Jackson drew his knife silently, hating his shaking hands as he brought it within a hair of Lisa's jugular, where he would make the first cut._

_Just as he was steeling himself, Lisa's eyelids fluttered and she sighed in her sleep, a name floating out of her lips like a breath._

"_Jackson"_

_The knife flew back as Jackson wheeled himself to the end of the room, flattening himself against her wall in an attempt to get away from the lovely creature who said her killer's name in her sleep as she was facing death._

_As if his body belonged to someone else, Jackson watched with avid interest and horror as he flew out of Lisa's room, through her apartment, out the door, down the stairs and into the night air._

_Sliding into his car, Jackson raced down the winding night streets until faced with a nondescript concrete warehouse._

_Snatching the file from the passenger's seat, Jackson ran to the door and threw the file down, scattering papers and photographs everywhere before pulling a lighter from his pocket and adding that to the pile._

_As the fire flared on the steps, Jackson took his newly sharpened knife and put it to work on the door, writing a message for Mr. King._

_As he pulled away, driving to God-knows-where to get drunk and curse his own stupidity, Jackson could see the two words carved into the doorway of the headquarters._

"_**I QUIT**"_

Lisa shivered as the sun began to set on the beach, painting the sky a lovely red and orange.

Boone had sat her down next to his sister, Shannon, who was twenty and looked like she had just walked off a runway rather than a plane crash.

"So…" he began, handing her a chocolate bar and a bottle of water. "What's your name and what really just happened back there?"

"Lisa" she offered. "And I'd rather not talk about it, if that's okay."

Boone nodded. "Were you guys really together on the plane?"

Lisa gave him a tight smile and gazed out at the sunset. "It's complicated."

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Sorry if you think Jackson was a little OOC. I'm doing the best I can. I'll put up the links for Sawyer and Shannon pics in my profile ASAP. Thank you for reading-and **Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So yell at me for posting right before closes down all Sunday, but I just got the new Stephanie Meyer book, the Sequel to "Twilight" and I'm pretty much psyched beyond reason. However, I promised myself I would update before starting it, so here you are: Chapter Four.**

**Thank you all for the amazing reviews I recieved for the last chapter! (And to answer your questionMooey714, OOC means out of character)I'm sorry it took me longer to update, but my school just started, and I've been off cursing the evil that is AP classes. Enjoy! (And Review**!)

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Chapter Four

As nighttime crept up on the island, Lisa found herself huddled next to one of the many campfires that now dotted the beach, each housing three or four survivors.

Her company was still Boone and Shannon, who had barely stopped arguing since she had joined them. Lisa could practically feel the tension radiating off the two, but chose to ignore them as she simply stared into the heart of the fire until her eyes watered and bright spots danced in her vision.

He was still watching her. Lisa could feel his eyes boring a hole in her back from his seat thirty feet away in the dark. She wanted to turn, to see exactly what kind of emotion was infused in the stare Jackson was giving her, but she didn't dare to draw her eyes away from the fire.

After their scene on the beach, Lisa was surprised that Jackson hadn't come tearing after her. Boone had sat her down and given her some water before his attention was grabbed by his sister's complaints and inquiries. About five minutes later, as Lisa watched the sun set, she heard him walk up far behind her and sit down, simply watching her immobile figure. She was slightly disturbed that she knew it was Jackson just by the sound of his footsteps, but he had a very distinct walk, almost a stalk, like he was hunting something.

Since then, the sky had turned from multi-colored to inky black, dotted with the most brilliant stars Lisa had ever seen. It was almost beautiful, marred by her other four senses that reminded her of her situation. She tilted her head upwards, gazing into the sky, and tried to forget the sound of crying, the taste of sea salt in her mouth, the smell of fire and blood, and the feel of his eyes on her.

It was impossible.

Lisa hadn't noticed the lapse in Boone and Shannon's bickering until the pretty blonde turned to her for amusement.

"Who is he?" she asked bluntly, tilting her head in Jackson's direction.

Lisa tore her gaze from the sky to look at the younger woman. "Who is who?" she questioned politely, though she knew exactly who Shannon was talking about.

"That guy over there. He's been staring at you for the last, like, three hours."

Lisa's gaze flickered involuntarily to Jackson, looking away before he could make eye contact. She debated the many answers to Shannon's question.

"He's an acquaintance" she replied at last, trying to be as vague as possible.

Shannon quirked an eyebrow. "What, is he like your stalker or something?" she in catty amusement.

Lisa smiled at the ground. "It's a long story."

Sitting back in a huff, Shannon gave up questioning her. "Well, can you tell him to go away?" she asked loudly. "It's getting _really creepy_."

Lisa fixed her eyes back to the core of the fire, watching as the flames danced in the wind. Jackson was already gone, faded into the darkness of the night the minute he heard Shannon's attentions.

She felt strangely naked without his eyes on her.

_She sat carefully on a spindly stool in front of her new boudoir, trying not to wrinkle her dress as she applied makeup to her pale, nervous face. _

_His name was Joshua. He was a college friend of Cynthia's, a "southern gentleman" that had charmed her with his shy smile from the moment they met. Tonight was their first date. It had been only two months since the Keefe incident. _

_As the doorbell sang out to announce Joshua's arrival, Lisa bustled towards the door, grabbing her clutch on the way._

_Throwing the door open, Lisa smiled as her date's 6'4 frame entered her apartment. Josh was tall and blonde with friendly brown eyes and an infectious personality. _

"_Hey" she greeted him, infusing her voice with as much cheer as possible. "You're early."_

_He grinned at her. "I've been pacing in my apartment for the last hour, wondering how I finally got the infamous Lisa Riesert to go on a date with me."_

_Lisa blushed, waving a hand at him. "I guess persistence finally paid off, didn't it?"_

"_That it did."_

"_Where are we going?" Lisa asked curiously as Josh ushered her through the door and lead her out of the building._

"_Giraldi's. It's a new Italian place I went to a few weeks ago. Their lasagna is to die for."_

"_I guess I'll have to try it, then," Lisa bantered, feeling at ease. This was how normal relationships were supposed to feel. Comfortable, happy, secure. She was relaxed. Maybe Cynthia was right-it was time for her to get back out into the dating world, and remind herself that not all men were like……..Lisa banished the thought of Jackson from her head. Tonight wasn't about Jackson. Tonight was about her and Josh, and she was going to have fun, damn it._

_She wouldn't think about him tonight._

Shannon had finally grown bored with Lisa and was once again fighting with Boone over her refusal to eat anything he offered. Lisa tried to regain her stare back into the fire, but without Jackson behind her she felt restless and unable to concentrate.

To her left, Lisa saw the pregnant woman who had been saved by the doctor this morning sitting alone on a metal pipe by her own fire. The firelight illuminated the faraway look on her face and glinted off her protruding stomach and the hand that lay absentmindedly stroking it. Lisa saw the dazed look in her eyes and felt some sort of kinship with the girl who obviously as confused as she was.

Standing up hesitantly, she looked toward Boone and Shannon, who didn't even notice her departure. Slowly making her way across the beach, Lisa stood awkwardly over the woman, feeling like a teenager in the cafeteria all over again.

"Excuse me," she began, pausing as the woman's head turned towards her "Do you mind if I sit here?"

She gave her a friendly smile and beckoned next to her. "Sure. Go ahead."

Lisa sat hesitantly, folding her hand in her lap "I'm Lisa," she offered to the woman, who beamed sweetly in a gesture that made her look more like a young girl than a woman. Lisa figured that she couldn't be more than twenty-three.

"Claire" the girl responded. A comfortable silence followed as both stared off into the distance.

"How many months along are you?" Lisa finally asked, gesturing to her stomach.

Claire rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "You know, that's the first thing everyone asks me. Maybe I'm just really fat!"

Lisa laughed, the sound seeming alien in her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"I'm in my eighth month." Claire informed her, her expression sobering. "I haven't really felt the baby kick since we crashed."

Lisa winced. "I'm sure it's just shock. The father wasn't on the plane, was he?"

Claire shook her head vehemently. "No, definitely not. The father's back in Australia, doing whatever he wants." She shook her head, smiling slightly bitterly and turned to Lisa. "You didn't have anyone on the plane?"

"No" Lisa responded firmly, blocking out the other answer to Claire's question. "I went to Australia for-" she paused, looking slightly pained. "I went to Australia alone."

"I live there." Claire supplied, helpfully changing the subject. Lisa grinned.

" I could tell." she joked. "I'm from Miami, I run a hotel." She paused, thinking for the first time of Cynthia and the Lux Atlantic crew. "They're probably in pure chaos right now, wondering where I am.'"

Claire chuckled. "Well, my fellow employees at Fish 'n Fry are probably celebrating my departure."

Lisa smiled and leaned back. "Well, to stay positive, at least the stars are beautiful out here."

Claire perked up. "I know! You can see Orion's Belt so clearly over there, and back in my hometown you could barely see Pegasus from all the smog." she caught Lisa's amused stare and flushed. "Sorry. I was an astrology major in college….while I was there, anyway. I get a little worked up."

"Well, you're eight months pregnant and just survived a plane crash on a deserted island. I think you're entitled to get worked up."

As the two women laughed, Lisa wondered if it was normal to crack jokes after such a horrific event. Somehow it seemed wrong, but it was a relieving reprieve from the last few hours.

Lisa's pondering was abruptly cut off as a horrible screeching noise ripped through the beach, followed by a blood-chilling roar.

Both women jumped to their feet as the people around them whirled around in terror, looking for the source of the terrible noise.

"What _was_ that?" Claire asked her, eyes wide and scared. Lisa opened her mouth to answer just as another roar sounded, louder. Castaways ran past them towards the edge of the forest, grouping a few feet away as they stared at the trees moving and falling to the side, indicating of a presence larger than average size.

Lisa took Claire's arm and helped her towards the group of others. The screeching continued, accompanied by a metallic whirring that sent the hair on the back of her neck straight up.

"Oh my _God_" she whispered as the trees swayed, transfixed in horror. She jumped as a hand closed around her upper arm, and she looked sideways to see Jackson next to her. He didn't look in her direction, instead keeping his eyes forward towards the movement and noise, but his grip tightened, acknowledging her.

The horrible noise screamed out again, and Lisa moved a step closer to Jackson, choosing the lesser of the two evils for a moment. He was tense; his jaw clenched and slightly crouched, as if getting ready to run.

The roaring finally dimmed and died out, the trees reverting to their normal upright position. Lisa was still shaking hard, her brain wildly trying to keep up with the last few minutes that resembled a bad sci-fi novel.

Jackson's hand was still gripping her arm unmercifully hard, the other hand grasping at his empty knife sheath in frustration.

"Fantastic" a man muttered in front of them dryly, and this seemed to begin the stream of buzzing as people turned to each other in disbelief.

"What was that?"

"Did you see it?"

"What was that sound… it was like a machine.."

Jackson led her away from the murmuring crowd, back to a now unoccupied campfire, and sat her down on a piece of driftwood. Lisa's forehead fell into her hands, and Jackson crouched down, his hands on her knees.

"Leese?" he questioned softly, with none of the malice he had used on her hours ago. Lisa lifted her head slightly, staring up at him.

"What is it, Jackson?" She was too tired to use his nickname to provoke him now, too tired and sick of this beach and its strange sounds and memories.

Jackson bent down even further, the ends of his hair brushing against her forehead.

"I want my knife back now."

She stared at him expressionlessly before pulling the knife out of the waist of her skirt and handing it to him, sharp end first. Taking it with ease and sliding it back into it's sheath, Jackson let out what could have been loosely interpreted as a sigh of relief.

"Go to sleep now, Leese." he instructed firmly "You've had a pretty exhausting day, from what I've heard."

Lisa watched him with guarded eyes. "What, so you can fillet me in my sleep?"

Jackson tensed again, avoiding her gaze and instead scanning the jungle.

"I'm not going to kill you." he finally stated.

"Why?" Lisa pressed, falling back on her second nature of baiting Jackson, but also truly curious in spite of herself. "I thought you didn't _owe me anything_."

A muscle leaped in his jaw. "I don't." he gritted through a clenched jaw. Lisa waited for him to say something else, to explain, but there was only silence.

Giving up, she lay down in the tractable sand, wiggling until there was a imprint of her that she could sleep in. Closing her eyes, she finally felt Jackson's gaze switch to her, and wished that it would feel disconcerting and wrong, that she wouldn't be able to sleep, instead of this traitorous feeling of safety and serenity washing over her.

_As dates went, it was perfect. Josh was funny, intelligent, and kept the conversation flowing throughout all of dinner. He even let her split the bill after her persistent demands. _

_As they walked back to his car, Lisa held her stomach and groaned. "Ugh, I don't think I've ever eaten so much in my life."_

_Josh smiled smugly. "I told you the lasagna was amazing."_

_She mock-glared at him. "It was more than amazing. If I become ridiculously fat, I'm blaming you, you know."_

_He held open his car (A stylish but not overly flashy Lexus) door for her. "Well, I'll happily escort you around when you become too obese to walk."_

"_Thanks." she replied dryly as he revved the engine and started out into the night streets._

_As he pulled up to her apartment complex door, he held up a hand. "I'll walk you in."_

_Smiling nervously, Lisa stepped out of the car and walked with him to the overhand, both of them avoiding each other's gazes._

_As Lisa stopped at the doors, Josh caught her hand. _

"_Look," he began awkwardly, blushing. "I don't want to be too forward or anything, but I just wanted to say that I had an amazing time tonight….and I think we should do it again."_

_Lisa smiled. "I'd love to."_

_Grinning enormously, Josh bent down towards her mouth, slowly so she could back away if she wanted to. When she made no movement, he brought his head completely down and kissed her softly, chastely on the lips. _

_His lips were warm and soft, and Lisa found herself pressing harder, deepening the kiss and bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder._

_Josh took that as an invitation to cradle her jaw with his hand, tilting his head to the side to get better access to her mouth._

_And suddenly Lisa could see his face, acidic blue eyes blazing and long hair hanging over his forehead, the tips seductively brushing his eyes. She moved her hand from his shoulder to the back of his head and dove into his mouth, her tongue escaping past her lips to slip through his._

_A slight moan escaped from him into her mouth, and Lisa loped her other arm around his neck, pressing herself as closely as she could to him._

"_Lisa" a voice whispered to her, and she tangled her hand in his silky brown hair._

"_Ja-" she started to whisper back before she realized that the voice that had whispered her name was not Jackson's, and the hair her hand was threaded in was short and blonde, not long and brown._

_Lisa threw herself back as if burned, a hand pressed over her mouth as she stared in horror at the bewildered man in front of her. Oh God, had she almost said her assassin's name while kissing another man? Why was she suddenly fantasizing about kissing him, and not her date?_

"_I have to go" she choked out, turning for the door, just as Josh had seemed to regain his voice._

"_Lisa, wait, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"_

"_It's not your fault." she said, her voice nearly breaking as she swung open the doors and ran through the lobby, sprinting up the stairs one flight at a time until she was in her room and slamming the door behind her._

_Leaning against the door, Lisa put her head in her hands and slid down to the carpet, feeling the tears pool in her cupped palms and hating herself for the image she now had burned behind her closed eyelids._

The dim rays of sunlight wormed its way through her closed eyes, and Lisa yawned and rubbed them, trying to dispel nature's wake-up call.

Finally opening her eyes, Lisa realized that the sun was just rising on the beach, signaling a time of around five or six.

Jackson was still awake, watching her without expression from across the fire.

Lisa scowled sleepily at him. "It's incredibly disconcerting when you that, you know."

"Suck it up." he grunted shortly, and she glared at him before rolling over and heading back to sleep, turning her back to the sun.

Lisa's second wake-up call was a fistful of sand flying into her face.

Sputtering and coughing, she sat up, opening her eyes to the face of a sheepish boy of about ten years old.

"Sorry" he apologized, pausing before resuming his run across the beach.

Lisa scrunched up her face and spit out the last of the sand. Kids. Crash their plane and stick them on a deserted island, and they still couldn't keep still.

The sun was now shining directly overhead, and Lisa had to shield her eyes as she squinted in the direction that the boy and a few others were running to.

Over by the fuselage, there was a small group of yelling people, centered around an unseen person until a break in the circle let Lisa see that it was actually two people. Two men, to be exact, rolling in the sand and punching each other for all they were worth.

From far away, all Lisa could see was that one was tall and tan, with blonde hair, and one was shorter and dark.

She didn't connect Jackson's disappearance with the fight until she saw the dark man holding a long, glinting object in his hand.

"Oh, _shit_."

Lisa's eyes widened as she scrambled up, ignoring her aching head as she sprinted towards what was clearly now an infuriated Jackson, hoping to get there in time.

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**Um, sorry about the cliffhanger-I was just honestly too tired to write more. I'm posting the link for Claire as soon as this chapter is up.**

**Again, Reviews equal Happiness!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Sorry about the wait! This one's extra-long to make up for it.**

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Lisa pumped her legs through the sand, pushing against the resistance across the beach. The crowd parted easily before her, and she pushed anyone who didn't immediately get out of her way until she was standing in front of the two men wrestling on the sand.

Sawyer clearly had the upper hand at the moment, being bigger and stronger, but Jackson was quick, and had his beloved KA-BAR in hand, waiting for the right moment to strike.

As Sawyer managed to get a hit to his nose, Jackson fell gracefully back to the sand, curling into a position that looked like a snake right before it struck.

Lisa burst between them just as Jackson leapt at Sawyer, knife ready in hand.

"Jackson, stop it!" she yelled angrily, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him back mid-leap. The velocity of her movements with the addition of Jackson's weight sent her careening to the ground, Jackson on top of her.

Jackson twisted quickly, his eyes blazing in fury as he recognized his attacker, and dealt her a swift punch in the face before turning back to Sawyer, who had hung back once Lisa had entered the fray.

Her cheek aching, Lisa clambered up and approached Jackson again, now truly pissed off. Pulling his shoulder and turning him to face her, she brought her elbow up and into his throat before he could punch her again.

Jackson gave a strangled yell of anger, falling back to clutch his old wound. Lisa turned to Sawyer, who was starting toward Jackson, a flinty look in his eye.

"Don't even think about it." She warned him, planting herself between the two men and trying not to turn her back on either. Sawyer, to her surprise, actually stopped in his tracks, looking at her with a small amount of astonishment and impression.

"Look" she panted, rubbing her cheek in what was sure to become a bruise later. "I don't care what the hell just happened, but now is not the time to fight. Jackson, keep your knife in your pants."

Jackson glared and started up towards her, then glanced at the crowd that now surrounded them and seemed to change his mind, simply turning at stalking away, shooting her a look that promised retribution.

Lisa sighed. She would deal with that later.

"And you" she continued, turning to the man Jackson was fighting. "Whatever the hell your name is-"

"Sawyer" the man interrupted, giving her a slow smile. "What's yours, Curls?"

Lisa gave him a long, frosty look that she had perfected on overly-friendly customers at the Lux. Unfortunately, it didn't really seem as effective when she was standing on a beach in torn, ragged clothes instead of a power suit in a hotel.

"I'm Lisa" she said as stiffly as possible. "What exactly were you two fighting about?"

Sawyer shrugged. "I made some observations- Armani didn't like them."

"Observations?" she asked skeptically.

"That's what I said." He snapped.

Lisa gave him a black look. "Next time, keep your _observations_ to yourself. I won't be here to stop him from skewering you."

Sawyer simply sneered. "Wouldn't want you to stay up all night worrying about me, Curls. Don't worry, I'll keep myself in one piece for you."

She rolled her eyes and walked away, striding back to her and Jackson's campfire and sincerely hoping he wasn't there, when a shadow fell across the beach and someone ducked a bucket of water on her.

Lisa sputtered shielding her eyes and looking up at whatever asshole had chosen to bother her at this rather ill-timed moment when she realized that the water was still coming down on her head, and the dumper, was, in fact, the sky.

It was raining, though raining seemed like a weak description for the torrential downpour that had fallen from the innocuous-looking clouds hovering around all morning. Lisa could barely see five feet in front of her, and there was surprised shouting as everyone tried to take cover.

"Lisa!" a familiar voice called, and Lisa turned to see Claire beckoning to her from underneath part of the plane, joined by a few others. She almost had to swim her way over, her arms over her head trying to shield herself from the walls of water.

Ducking under the wing of the plane, she smiled at Claire. "Thanks. Wow, have you ever seen it rain so hard in your life?"

"Only in the movies." The young woman answered, moving over to give her more room.

They watched the storm in silence, observing the other castaways running around, trying to find shelter and providing it to as many as possible.

Lisa stared curiously at one man in a white plaid shirt, who hadn't moved from his spot sitting on the beach. Though the rain pummeled him in all directions, he simply raised his hands up to the sky and smiled as if he were giving thanks in church. She frowned, trying to think why he looked so familiar. His bald head finally jogged her memory.

_Walking down the narrow blue carpetway of the plane, Lisa nearly tripped over a glossy flight safety manual. She picked it up from the ground and turned to the bald man sitting directly to the left of it, one of the few people on the plane before her._

"_Excuse me, is this yours?"_

_The man looked up and gazed at her outstretched hand with a mixture of longing, anger and helplessness. "Yes, that's mine. Thank you."_

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_Lisa struggled, screaming for help from the other passengers no more than two feet from her. To her dismay, everyone was either screaming themselves or had their eyes tightly shut, praying or simply holding on to the best of their ability. No one could hear her cries for help._

_As Jackson continued to pull her down the aisle, she caught the eye of the bald man she had spoken to earlier. He looked positively terrified, but unlike most others he was conscious and alert._

"_Sir!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard. "Help me! Please!"_

_The bald man stared at Jackson in horror and gripped his handrests until his knuckles were white, but he didn't rise from his seat._

_In one of her last moments of consciousness, the man shot her a look of anguished apology, mixed with the helplessness she had seen earlier._

Lisa turned to Claire. "Do you know who that is? The guy staying out in the rain?"

Claire shook her head. "The old one? No, he was sitting by himself last night. Pretty quiet guy. Why, do you know him?"

"I saw him on the plane. He seemed…..different then."

Claire shrugged. "He looks like some sort of religious freak to me." She suddenly seemed to remember something. "Hey, where were you last night, anyway? After that noise, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Lisa scrambled for an answer. "My friend took me back to his fire-I was pretty shook up."

Claire nodded. "Oh, Boone, that guy you were with earlier."

Lisa said nothing, hoping that Claire would assume that it was Boone. She was getting tired of skirting around the Jackson issue, and people seemed to ask her about it every five seconds.

Where was Jackson, anyway? She hadn't seen him since the fight this morning, and he certainly wasn't under the wing at the moment. Hopefully the rain had cooled off whatever rage had fueled his idiotic decision to get into a fight with Sawyer.

As Lisa relapsed into thoughts of Jackson, another roar sounded through the jungle, farther away than last night, but still tree-shakingly loud.

"There it is again." Claire whispered, clutching the edge of the plane and peering out across the beach into the jungle.

Lisa rested her hands on her knees and tried to put her mind though the levels of stress management she had learned from countless books.

_Alright Lisa, don't go to pieces. What the hell is the first step? Assess the situation. Let's see, the situation is that there's a freaking dinosaur out in the jungle that could rip me to pieces! Alright, calm down. Second step: what can I do about the situation? Nothing! Sit here and possibly get eaten! God, this is not working…._

"I hope they're all right." Claire remarked offhandedly as the roaring died down back into the jungle.

"Who?" Lisa asked, her eyes still tightly shut.

Claire looked at her in surprise. "Jack and the two others-they've gone into the jungle to go look for the cockpit and see if they can find the transceiver. Where were you this morning?"

Lisa's eyes snapped open. "Wait, what? Jackson's gone? What the hell would posses him-"

"-Lisa" Claire cut her off, staring warily. "Are you okay? I didn't think that you even knew the doctor. He saved my life yesterday, you know. With the wing explosion"

Lisa sank back down to the sand, sighing in relief. "Oh. The doctor's name is Jack. Jack, not Jackson." The other Jack must have been the suited man she had first mistaken for Jackson.

"Right." Claire said slowly. "Is there another Jack on the island?"

"Who's going with the doctor to find the transceiver?" Lisa asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"A woman- I think her name was Kate- and another man who claimed to be in a band." Claire looked at her strangely. "Are you sure you're okay? You look really tense, and there's a giant bruise on your cheek."

""It's from the crash." Lisa said automatically, bringing a hand to the sore spot. "I, um, have to go. I'll be right back."

"Okay." Claire said, frowning. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Don't ask me if I'm sure." Lisa snapped, regretting her outburst at the hurt look on Claire's face. "Sorry," she apologized swiftly as she ducked out into the rain. "It's a habit. I gotta go."

Turning, she hurried down the beach, back to what remained of her and Jackson's campsite. The rain had let up considerably, now only a drizzle, and the sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds.

As she strode through the sand, Lisa couldn't help but take another look at the bald man, still sitting on the wet ground, looking blissfully contented. His hands had been lowered, but his face was still tilted towards the sky, catching raindrops.

Lisa felt herself inexplicably drawn to him, wondering how in the world he could look so damned happy after what had taken place. Her curiosity seemed to propel her legs, and before she knew it she was sitting down in the sand next to him.

"Hi." she said eventually, hesitant to break his silence. "I'm Lisa."

The man turned his attentions from the sky towards her. He had an angry red cut that sliced down above and below his eye, but otherwise seemed unharmed by the crash. His squinted blue eyes, bald head and toughed skin made him look like an old military veteran. As he scanned her face, his eyes lit up in slight recognition.

"Locke." he said abruptly, as if stating an answer to a question. "John Locke."

"What are you doing out here, Mr. Locke?"

He spread his arms out. "Enjoying the scenery."

Lisa eyes him warily. "It's raining."

He chuckled. "I know. But even so, it's really pretty beautiful out here."

Lisa sat back at tried to look around her the way he was, searching for beauty. Sure, the beach was the epitome of scenic, with white sand and clear blue waves lapping at the shore and framed by a lush green forest. It looked like something from a vacation ad. But it was impossible to take in the beach without noting the charred black plane body lying on it, bizarre against the picturesque background.

"I don't see it." she finally told him, shaking her head. Locke regarded her with thoughtful eyes.

"Maybe you just haven't gotten the right perspective yet." he replied simply, paused for a long moment before addressing her again.

"Where's your friend?"

"What?" Lisa asked, surprised that he actually remembered Jackson from the five seconds that she had screamed for his help on the plane.

"One of my last memories on the plane was you being dragged down the aisle by a man, screaming for help. I figured he was a friend of yours."

"No" Lisa assured him, relived to confide in someone who had witnessed her and Jackson together. "He's definitely not a friend."

Locke's eyebrows ascended into his forehead, creating shallow crevasses. "Really? That's strange." at Lisa's quizzical look, he continued. "After knocking you out, he secured you in the seat next to his and made sure you had an air mask before securing himself. I assumed you were together, though it didn't really explain why you wanted my help."

Lisa simply sat on the sand, utterly flummoxed. Once again, Jackson had done something that blurred her attempt at focusing a picture of his character, an understanding of him. Her sore throat and bruised cheekbone told her that he was a bad man, someone who was "definitely not her friend" as she had simply explained to Locke. Now the very fact that she was alive and breathing suggested that she didn't really know Jackson Rippner at all.

"You know, you have it now, if you want." Locke said casually, breaking the long silence between them. Lisa blinked, confused.

"Have what?"

"My help."

Lisa stared at him, uninhibited. "Why do you want to help me?"

Locke tilted his face back up to the sky, though the rain had stopped falling somewhere during their conversation. "Because I can."

Lisa contemplated his cryptic answer. "Thank you." she said carefully, not sure if his help was something she wanted yet or not.

"I thought you might want to know." Locke said. "Since your friend is coming toward us. He looks pretty angry."

Lisa whipped around to confirm that Jackson was, in fact, striding toward them, his face resembling a thundercloud. She jumped to her feet, wondering how Locke knew he was coming.

"I'll consider my question unanswered for the moment." Locke commented as Jackson reached them, fuming. Lisa nodded quickly before turning to face Jackson.

"We need to talk" he hissed in a low voice, grabbing her arm tightly but not hard enough to generate attention.

Lisa nodded her head in agreement, watching as a burst of surprise flashed across Jackson's eyes before disappearing.

"Yes" she agreed. "We need to talk."

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**Sorry about the minimal Jackson-action in this chapter-I promise there will be much more in the next. But you got to meet Locke, a charecter you will love and loathe depending on the episode. Goodness, did you know that I'm on the fifth chapter and still haven't gotten out of the Pilot of Lost? By the season finale I'll have about 300 chapters. Ugh.**

**I'm posting the Locke pic now.**

** I know I need a new catchphrase, but for the last time, Reviews equal Happiness!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Lisa walked mutely behind Jackson, one eye on the retreating crowds on the beach, and the other on his back. They were heading away from the fuselage and towards the edge of the jungle, yet Jackson showed no sign of stopping.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked, nimbly stepping over the littering of driftwood and uprooted pants as they finally entered the shaded canopy of the jungle.

"You wanted to talk." Jackson answered shortly without turning around. "I don't want to be interrupted by any of your new friends."

Lisa stopped in her tracks. "No." she said firmly. "I'm not going any further with you."

He turned around, surprised. "If I was going to kill you, Leese, I'd have done it by now. I run a tight schedule, even on a deserted island."

She remained where she was. "I want to be able to see the beach." she insisted stubbornly.

Jackson sighed and retraced his steps until he was at the lip of the jungle. "Fine. We talk right here." he stated, pointing to a fallen tree that formed a convoluted bench.

"You can see the fuselage from between those trees, and if you start screaming as I know you're capable of, I'm sure either the southern hick or the sensei man will come running. I get my privacy, you get your security. Sit."

Lisa worked the situation in her mind, and decided it was sensible. If Jackson did attack her, whether he planned to or not, she could hold him off long enough to scream for nearby help. Eying him cautiously, she took a seat on the tree and crossed her arms. Jackson remained standing in front of her.

"What were you talking about with that man just now?" he began, standing stock-still before her but shifting ever so slightly that Lisa could sense he'd rather be pacing.

"Why did you get in a fight with that man-Sawyer-this morning?" she replied coolly.

Jackson sat down on a rock facing her. "Listen Leese," he instructed, "when I told you we needed to talk, I meant that I was going to be asking the questions and you be answering them. You _are _going to answer them, or we're going to have a lot of trouble on this island. Now _what were you talking to him about_?"

"We're going to have a lot of trouble on this island?" Lisa quoted skeptically. "Is that really the best you can do, Jack? You lose all of your bluster when you don't have a family member of mine to threaten, don't you?"

"I'm adaptable" he fired back, the threat lingering in his eyes.

Lisa stared back at him, suddenly emboldened by the idea that Jackson had no way to coerce her here, no way to keep her under his hand. She could walk away right now, and ignore all of his questions. Sure, he'd attack her, but only within the cover of the jungle. On the beach, she was safe, under the stare of so many inquisitive eyes.

But as hard as the managerial side of her mind told her to bolt for the beach, another part of her wanted to stay here and answer his questions, and maybe ask a few of her own.

"Here's what we do." she said slowly, enjoying her foreign sense of power. "For every question I answer, you answer one of mine. I'll tell you exactly what I was talking about with Mr. Locke, and you tell me why you got into a fight with Sawyer. Quid pro quo."

A muscle in Jackson's jaw leaped. "Quid pro Quo." he mocked. "Did they teach you that at the Lux?"

Lisa leaned forward. "Call it a life lesson"

"Alright" Jackson snapped, uncrossing his arms and matching her forward posture. "You first."

Lisa hesitated, unsure of what to tell Jackson about her strange encounter with Locke. "He….he wanted to know about us."

Jackson was immediately on alert. "Why?"

"I think he saw us when…before the crash-"

"-_What did you tell him_?"

Lisa glanced up, startled at the intense and slightly desperate look that was etched on Jackson's face.

"He asked if we were friends." she said carefully.

"And you said no."

Lisa nodded, trying to gauge his reaction. "I didn't tell him anything else." she added.

Jackson nodded, letting out a controlled breath. "Good. I don't think I have to tell you not to tell anyone about our….background together."

Lisa cocked her head. "What should I tell them then, Jackson? That we're together? Is that really what you want me to tell them?"

Jackson shrugged. "You can tell them whatever you want, as long as it's not the truth."

"And what happens when we get rescued?"

"I'm a complete stranger. You've never met me before in your life. You don't even know my last name." Jackson shook his head. "I don't think you have to worry about that just yet, though."

"Why?" Lisa asked, with a faint feeling that she didn't want to know the answer. "You didn't do anything, did you?"

Jackson chuckled. "I told you I wasn't suicidal before, Leese. I'm just pointing out that we've been here almost 24 hours, and no one's come."

Lisa shifted her mind still unwilling to consider the idea of being stuck with Jackson for more than it would take a rescue team to come.

"So, it's my turn to ask a question." she began, blatantly changing the subject. "Why did you get into a fight with Sawyer?"

Jackson snorted. "Is that his name? It figures."

Lisa ignored the jibe. "What happened?"

"He accused me of being an abusive husband." Jackson stated simply in his most controlled tone. "Apparently we had quite an audience last night."

Lisa's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the situation. "Why did you attack him then?"

"Because I'm not."

Lisa narrowed her eyes at him. "You're lying."

Jackson raised his eyebrows, looking amused. "The last time I checked, we weren't married. Unless you've decided to go with the 'we're together' cover after all…"

"You know what I mean. You didn't attack him because he thought you were an abusive husband. Why the hell would you care?"

Jackson laughed without a trace of humor. "I don't lie Lisa, remember? Besides, why would I lie to you? He accused me of something I wasn't. Called me all sorts of bad names, too. I had a right to fight him. End of story. Now, I believe it's my question."

He rested his chin in his hand in a mock-thoughtful pose. "Why did you save my life?".

"Why did you save mine?"

Jackson rolled his eyes "Leese, I don't think that you're getting the hang of this quid-pro-quo idea-"

"-I saved your life because it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment." Lisa interred. "I was confused and scared; it was a….a knee-jerk reaction."

Jackson's eyebrows once again rose. "I see." he stated. "Now what was that nonsense before about saving your life?"

"Locke-the man I was talking to-said something." Lisa started, the information he had given her still engraved in her mind. "He told me that after you knocked me out on the plane, you belted me to the seat next to you and gave me an air mask. You saved my life"

She tried to read Jackson's expression as this information sunk in, but besides a brief flash of surprise, his face was a blank canvass.

"Jackson?" Lisa pressed, "Why'd you do it?"

Jackson looked up at her. "I saved your life…." he began, "because…it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment." He smirked. "Call it a knee-jerk reaction."

"Bastard." she muttered, making his smile widen.

---------------------------------------------

By the time they returned to the fuselage, Jackson had interrogated her as thoroughly as he could on everything that had happened since she had woken up the previous day. Claire, what she had said to her, Boone, what she had said to _him_; all his concern was focused on the concealment of his identity.

"Did you tell anyone my last name?" he had demanded.

"No. What would happen if I did?"

"I'd have to kill you. Or them. Probably both."

In return, he had answered her questions as cryptically as possible, giving barely any information besides "yes" or "no".

As they walked into the camp, the sun was setting, and Lisa noticed that there were a few missing from the camp. Boone and Shannon, in particular, were gone, as well as Sawyer.

Locke, however, was still sitting on the beach, and Jackson tensed next to her as his eyes fell on them, but Lisa simply nodded her greeting and continued past to sit by Claire at her fire

"Hi." she greeted, sitting down next to her. "Sorry I ran off earlier."

Claire smiled and shook her head. "No problem. Everyone's a little on edge, understandably." Her gaze switched curiously to Jackson, who was hovering behind Lisa, smiling politely.

"Oh, right." Lisa began uncomfortably, getting to her feet. "This is Jackson. We…um.."

"We just met." Jackson stepped in and shook Claire's hand, all smiled and charm. "Lisa was looking after me after I got into a little disagreement earlier this morning."

"Oh." Claire commented, a grin spreading across her face and shooting Lisa a mischievous look. "Well, I heard she's a hotel manager, so you're in very good hands."

"Yes I am." Jackson replied, winking, and Lisa had to force a smile.

"Have the doctor's group come back with the transceiver yet?" Lisa asked quickly, sitting down again as far as she could from Jackson.

"Yeah, hours ago. I forgot, you missed everything! There was another fight this afternoon between that man you fought with earlier and another man."

Lisa and Jackson exchanged quick looks over the fire. "What was it about?"

"Well, your man-"

"Sawyer" Lisa and Jackson chorused.

"Yes, him, he accused the other man, who's Iraqi, of crashing the plane."

Lisa winced. "He certainly gets around."

Claire shrugged. "After that, everything calmed down. The doctor's group came back with the transceiver, and the Iraqi man fixed it, and they've led an expedition to higher ground or something to see if they can pick up a signal. He didn't go with them, though."

"Who?"

"Jack, the doctor. He had to stay behind to take care of a wounded man with a piece of shrapnel in his side."

Jackson winced and rubbed his own newly-healed chest wound. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"Yeah. And everyone's kind of on edge, because of the handcuffs, so they're waiting for him to wake up."

Lisa shook her head. "Wait, I don't understand."

Claire's expression darkened. "That's right; I forgot you weren't there this afternoon. After the fight, another man came forward saying that he had found handcuffs in the jungle. Apparently the shrapnel man is a US Air Marshall, so everyone thinks the handcuffs are somehow related to him."

Lisa suddenly found it very hard to breathe. She looked everywhere; the fire, the ocean, Claire, except at Jackson. "Really?" she forced out, trying to ignore the unidentified fluttering feeling in her stomach.

Claire nodded enthusiastically. "Sayid; the Iraqi man; he thinks it's Sawyer."

Jackson smiled into the fire. "That wouldn't surprise me."

As the minutes passed, Lisa could feel him trying to catch her eye, but instead turned her whole body towards Claire, engaging her in light conversation that she could participate in without really thinking. Her mind was whirring with the new information Claire had just presented her. The handcuffs. The Air Marshall. Jackson's obsession with what she had told others about him.

Claire soon fell asleep, laying by the fire in serene rest and never dreaming that the other tow accompanying her were an assassin and his former victim.

"They're not mine." Jackson spoke quietly over the fire, careful not to wake the sleeping pregnant women beside them.

"I know." Lisa responded after a moment.

Jackson looked pleased. "You've finally comprehended the fact that I don't-"

"-I pulled you out of the plane un-handcuffed. You were unconscious. If you really were being escorted by the Air Marshall you would undoubtedly had them on, and the seat next to you that you strapped me into would be filled by him. Plus, I doubt he would have let you go to the bathroom to see me."

Jackson nodded, impressed. "You've obviously thought this over."

Lisa forced herself to look into his eyes, the veil of fire between them giving her courage.

"But you knew about him. You knew he was on the plane, and he would recognize you."

Jackson bit the inside of his cheek. "Yes, I did."

"What are you going to do when he wakes up?"

Jackson shrugged. "It depends on if he recognizes me or not."

Lisa closed her eyes. "And if he does?"

He chuckled. "Leese, just because you're on an island doesn't mean that you're not a hotel manager anymore. Just because I'm here, away from my job, doesn't mean I'm not a manager anymore. If he recognizes me, I'll do what needs to be done."

His eyes pierced her through the flames. "The same goes for anyone who gets in my way."

They didn't speak after that, just stared until the fire died down and Lisa curled up, her mind scrambling and her stomach churning until she fell into an uneasy sleep.

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**Coming Soon: (Random excerpts from next chapter)**

-"_Hi." the woman said, smiling prettily. "I'm Kate."_

_-"We hiked up to the highest point we could find." the man explained to the crowd, his face drawn and serious, "But we failed to pick up a signal."_

_-"He's awake, Jackson. He's awake and he's talking to Jack."_

"_You think I don't know this?"_

_Lisa stared at the knife secured at his side. "You're going to kill him, aren't you?"_

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Sorry for the wait, guys! Hope you liked the chapter. Reviews make them come faster!


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